


Beginnings

by torilokiderp



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), if this can be called fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:53:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8018356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torilokiderp/pseuds/torilokiderp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vision's mind was far different than those of typical humans, different from even hers. Wanda could never catch simple thoughts by merely brushing over it, nor had she ever sought to. Wariness had kept her away, ever since the night of his birth. "Look again," he had offered, yet she had never taken the opportunity to delve into his mind. Perhaps she was afraid of what she would find there. It had pained her before. She reminded herself that this was not Ultron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for these two, so you can imagine I'm nervous about it! It's just a terrible mess with a terrible title, but hopefully, some of you like messes! For my ranting a and scarlet vision art, you can visit me over on tumblr. It's the same username ^. ^
> 
> Enjoy!

It was raining.

It was not a cold and gloomy rain. Rather, it was warm, refreshing on overheated skin. The sun would occasionally appear beyond the clouds, painting colors in an arc across the sky. It was one of the late summer showers August often brought.

The storm did nothing to halt the day's training, however. The morning carried on as usual, with indoor training substituting for outdoor exercises. At least they would not need to run in the intense heat of the sun. For that Wanda was grateful. The weather in America was much more unforgiving than in Sokovia, but she liked to think she had become more tolerant of it in the few months she had been there. She wasn't entirely opposed to training. It meant improvement. Improved strength. Improved control over herself. That didn't mean she did not groan with every new issued order. At times she was envious of those of her teammates who could remain standing after a day's work. Admittedly she had not been terribly active in recent years and that had come back to punish her.

"Alright, I think that's enough for today." From her place on the ground, Wanda could see Steve take his place near the door. There was a collective sigh from Sam and Rhodes. The pair may have had military training, but such practice was nothing compared to the rigorous work Natasha and Steve placed on them. Wanda admired Natasha's skill. Even more so when she had received the brunt of it only moments ago, which was why she was left laying flat on her back.

Natasha was obviously amused by this, gazing down at the younger woman with the hint of a smile. "Today was better," was her only comment.

Wanda did not move from her place, even as the others shuffled out, their loud chattering fading with them. Only after a few moments did she even begin to attempt pulling herself up, arms already protesting. Halfway through her progress, a hand hovered down in front of her, effectively startling her. Snapping her gaze upward, she saw that it was only Vision.

The synthezoid was a strange being. Though having been part of the new team for months, he was often quiet and observant. Wanda found that, at times, she was still wary of him. It had been three long months since his creation, however, and there had been no clear sign of malice from him. She was more curious than afraid.

With only a moment's hesitation, she took the offered hand, pulled to her feet with hardly any effort on his part. "Thank you," she murmured, noting that he certainly didn't look exhausted from their training. Yet another envious thought floated through her mind as her legs now screeched in protest of movement.

"Of course, Miss Maximoff," Vision replied, his voice as even as it always seemed to be. _Miss Maximoff_. It was not often someone regarded her so formally. It made her feel important. She decided that she did not like it.

She half-expected him to linger. There was a small instance where he might have. Instead, he turned with the faintest nod and made his way to the door, passing through it in that effortless manner he held. Wanda noticed that his way of moving was almost graceful. She did not think on it too long.

*~*~*~*~*

Because of the rain, Wanda couldn't do much outside. There was always an umbrella to borrow, but there was little point when everyone else was determined to stay inside. Thus, Wanda began to submit to the ennui of a rainy day. Long periods of time alone and silence were unfavorable, leaving her susceptible to her own thoughts. Nights were difficult, fraught with nightmares. Alone, she lingered too long on Pietro. It had only been a few months; the wounds were still fresh. Thankfully, she hadn't coped on her own. Sam encouraged her to seek out hobbies, to make connections, engage in meditation. Guitar lessons helped somewhat. At times it was not enough. In solitude, her mind reached out for something to focus on, and that usually meant touching the minds of those around her.

Wanda usually tried to avoid reading the thoughts of her teammates. She knew her powers were a source of concern for them and Steve had expressed his discomfort with her ability to read minds. Because of this, she never strayed deeply, but merely passing over their minds with the lightest touch betrayed some thoughts. At times, the power at her disposal tempted her. Stretching her mind out enough provided a frenzy of thoughts towards her, enough to cause her to become unfocused and disoriented. Often, she would regret doing so. Yet it happened more frequently than she cared to admit. Wandering the halls, her mind reached beyond her, catching stray thoughts from her teammates. A silly competition around the track. An overdue visit to Clint and Laura Barton. Concern for a man bearing the name Barnes. These thoughts all flooded into her mind, along with every other mundane problem from the other agents who inhabited the compound. Every mind was rambunctious in nature, even in those who seemed more reserved.

As she neared the sitting room, she caught onto a familiar hum, far more subdued than the rest. Suddenly, all her focus was drawn to this single presence. Recognizing it, she immediately shied away, her mind drawing back instinctively. Vision's mind was far different than those of typical humans, different from even hers. Wanda could never catch simple thoughts by merely brushing over it, nor had she ever sought to. Wariness had kept her away, ever since the night of his birth. _"Look again,"_ he had offered, yet she had never taken the opportunity to delve into his mind. Perhaps she was afraid of what she would find there. It had pained her before. She reminded herself that this was not Ultron. Wary as she was, she found herself unbearably intrigued. His mind was a unique hub of calm, that much she could tell. When he would pass her by, she could sense the pleasant hum and warm aura. Yet she hadn't dared.

Rounding the corner into the sitting room, Wanda found him sitting alone on one of the bright orange chairs. Only a single lamp was on, as the sun had ducked behind the clouds again, casting everything in grey shadows. A book was apparently consuming his attention. The synthezoid was highly intelligent, but young, and seemed to have a voracious appetite for knowledge. The library provided on the grounds held both fiction and nonfiction, and Vision had already perused most of it. Upon closer inspection, Wanda noted that the book in his hands was one of poetry.

Noticing her presence, Vision focused his attention on her, long fingers marking the page and shutting the book. His gaze was often one of curiosity, yet it didn't linger longer than needed, especially when one observed him in return. Wanda thought that perhaps he was shy in some way. "Miss Maximoff," he greeted. He said nothing else, yet she noticed he shifted slightly in his seat. Perhaps he felt some semblance of nervousness?

"Vision." With a pleasant smile, Wanda took a seat at the other end of the couch. She realized she had never attempted to make small talk with him. Wanting to avoid awkward silence, she glanced once again at his book, grasping for a subject. "What are you reading?"

"Verlaine." She could see his irises whirling in thought as they dropped to the cover and she leaned in closer to read the words printed there.

"French?" He caught the note of her surprise and there was something like a smile in his expression. It could have been a smile.

"Yes."

"I had no idea you knew French."

"I have taken it upon myself to learn the languages of this world. It would prove useful." There was a brief pause as he seemed to consider his words. "I... wish to add Sokovian to the languages I need learn."

Despite herself, Wanda smiled. " _Dobrý_. Good. I am pleased you are interested in learning."

There was a slight tilt of his head, his irises slowing in their seemingly endless loop. "Do- _Dobry_ ," he repeated, earning a soft laugh from Wanda.

"I can tell your accent will be atrocious," she told him, pulling her legs under her and sitting more comfortably. "But. I'm sure you'll do well." Vision seemed reassured by this.

Sitting there beside him, Wanda felt her curiosity flaring up again. Vision displayed such an endearing naïveté; she wondered at the true nature of his thoughts. Suddenly, she did not feel quite so wary of him. Reaching toward him, her mind gave his a tentative touch. She sensed the warm humming of his thoughts, calm, focused. At once, his eyes flicked away from the book where they had returned. The whirring irises came to a halt, pinned on her with extreme focus. After her initial confusion, she understood that he had felt her. His thoughts had reacted to her presence. Feeling heat creep up on her cheeks, she immediately withdrew, searching for an explanation, mouth agape. Most remained unaware of her presence in their minds, yet Vision had sensed her as easily as if she had physically placed a hand on his head.

"You are curious," he announced when she could not form a word. Her mouth snapped shut and, forcing herself to look away, she nodded.

"...Yes. I-I'm sorry. I did not think you would notice."

"It seems the mind stone is keenly aware of you, Miss Maximoff, as your abilities are a derivative of it. Your confusion is understandable."

It was a plausible explanation, one she had not considered before. "So... Have you felt me before? I mean, in those other times I've reached out?"

"I have. I noticed you did not delve very deeply."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, wincing slightly at this revelation.

"There is hardly any need to apologize, Miss Maximoff. If you truly wish to explore the nature of my mind, you are more than welcome to, if it would help to ease your wariness of me. My last offer still stands."

So he remembered. She shouldn't have expected him to forget anyhow. She should have protested more, but her curiosity was far too great, and boredom was not something she wanted to combat at the moment. Biting her lip, she met his waiting gaze. "You truly do not mind?"

"Not at all." His acquiescence sent a twinge of guilt through her. She nearly backed away from his offer once again. Her hesitation must have been clear. Feeling a light touch on her hand, she looked down to see that he had placed his much larger one over it. To her astonishment, she felt the familiar hum of his mind against hers. "It's quite alright, Miss Maximoff," he offered in reassurance, the barest hint of a smile--what could have been a smile--touching his lips.

It was enough to encourage her, and with the slightest sigh, she grasped onto his mind, traveling in with surprising eagerness. It had been a long time since she had connected with another's mind. She had been in Pietro's at the moment of his death, had known his pain and his every thought before it. Pietro had tethered her after they developed their powers, kept her grounded when her powers threatened to tear her mind apart. It had been a comfort and it had been a home. Stepping into Vision's mind was something like returning there.

Crimson energy parted through and entangled with the warm gold of his mind. His thoughts were not frenzied, not like a human's mind. They were orderly, calculated and stored away, never forgotten. What he had learned in a day was analyzed and sorted by importance. Wanda caught fleeting glimpses of the poetry he had read, translated so that she could understand as easily as he had ( _...One June day, I was feeling anxious/She appeared, smiling at my glances..._ ); the advice given to him by Steve during training; the faintest notes of music he had heard some other day, one that could not leave his mind. It seemed even he could suffer from a catchy tune. His every thought was derived from lines of code that only his programming could translate. Endlessly complicated and astonishing. His mind was more than what she touched, and she could sense the sheer vastness of it beyond some invisible border.

 _The mind stone_.

Wanda's hesitance was all the more clear with their minds connected. Rather than hear his reassurance, she felt it: a mental nudge, scarlet and gold twining like clasping fingers. Without any more waiting, she pushed past that border with little resistance.

It was vast. Vast and unknown, and what she saw before her were... stars. Endless stars stretching beyond what the average mind could comprehend. These stars were not the ones painted nightly on the earth's sky after each passing day. These were foreign. Unfamiliar constellations and worlds--and somehow she knew that each collection of stars held some enigmatic name. Somehow Vision knew this. She could sense his familiarity with these stars and she could sense that he couldn't place how he knew them. He could remember them in some distant memory not his own. Was it memory or was it simply _knowing_? Contemplating them brought him what could only be the sensation of deja vu, along with the memory of his first day of consciousness. Wanda could see it now, as if through his eyes: the city lights shining and unfocused against the window pane. The only thing he could compare it to was the night sky, one impossibly far from that point on Earth.

It was a space he had all to himself, one in which he could contemplate during the few nights he shut down. He searched for answers, for anything that could tell him what the stone sitting in his head was, what its history was. In this space, Wanda could stretch her own mind, reach beyond the confines of her own head. She realized that so much power could hardly fit into her small body, her small limbs. She had struggled time and time again to contain it, to control it. Here in Vision's mind, she felt grounded once again. She felt at ease. She couldn't stay there forever, certainly when there was much still she needed to learn of the synthezoid at her side. His mind still had untouched depths, and she would not prize more from him than she needed to, no more than he was willing to give.

Withdrawing from the starry space, she caught the image of herself, sitting there across from him, eyes peacefully closed in her trance. She realized that this was from Vision's perspective. As suddenly as she happened upon the image, it faded, tucked away in the lower depths of his mind. The only thing she could note from it was the feeling of confusion that surrounded it, filling him for the briefest second. She did not want to intrude any longer or question what the thought of her contained. Disentangling her mind from his, she breathed in deeply, eyes fluttering open and landing on his steady gaze.

"Are your findings satisfactory?" The irises of his eyes were remarkably still, focused intensely on her, and she recalled the fleeting image of herself that intrigued him.

Turning over his question in her mind, she focused her gaze instead on the items scattered on the coffee table. Eventually, she nodded. "Yes." There was no chaos in his mind, no malicious intentions. His mind was an extraordinary hub of calm and appreciation for humanity. Already, Wanda wished to return. Her cheeks heated up at the thought of asking him to allow her in yet again. Perhaps some other time.

"I am pleased that I am no longer a cause for concern in you, Miss Maximoff."

"Vision..." She turned back to face him, holding up a hand. "Please, just-- Wanda. You can call me Wanda."

The synthezoid's irises whirled away again, as per their usual pattern, considering this correction.

"Of course," he acquiesced. "...Wanda."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! I don't know if I'll write more for them. This is just me testing them out. I'd appreciate it very much if I could know y'all's thoughts on this!


End file.
